Alone
by brokenheartsandtwistedminds
Summary: Ziva was the closest friend that Jenny had, she could tell Ziva anything. Or so she thought, anyway. Can she being herself to  tell Ziva the biggest secret of all? The secret that was slowly killing her from the inside? Or will she go through it alone?


Jenny and Ziva, together, had been through a lot; they drove around Eastern Europe together, surely a near death experience by the way Ziva drove, even although Jenny had put her full trust into the Israeli when she had saved her life in the anti-terrorism attack. The redhead had paid it back, however, by introducing Ziva into Gibbs' team, something that she hadn't regretted from the moment it happened. Now that Jenny was a higher rank than Ziva, they didn't have the best of relationships anymore, something that the Director of NCIS had missed. Her company, while often more formal than Jenny would have hoped, was something that she enjoyed and wish she could have the pleasure of more often.

Needless to say, she was rather pleased when Ziva strode into her office one morning. It had been a slow week for everybody, and most time was spent sitting around doing very little. Jenny herself had been entertaining herself with old pictures from a lifetime ago, although when anyone asked she was, in fact, looking through NIS cold cases.

Ziva's entrance was unexpected, and unannounced, too. Jenny couldn't help but smile; she was so much like Gibbs, and she was sure that was why she considered Ziva to be such a close friend. Cynthia, as when Gibbs entered, was trying to catch Ziva's attention with calls of "_You can't enter unannounced, the director is busy, do you have a meeting with her?_" "It's okay, Cynthia, this isn't official business." She offered the lady a smile, and dismissed her with a wave of her hand. "This isn't official business, is it?" She cocked her head to the side and took off her glasses, about to gesture for Ziva to sit in the seat on the desk to see that she was already seated there. She chuckled under her breath, thinking of the amount of times Gibbs had done the exact same thing, although often more angry or rushed. Ziva, as always, was collected and calm as she faced her old friend.

"No," she said simply, and Jenny nodded, pushing her monitor and keyboard out the way and leaning on the desk, smiling. Ziva mirrored her action, and before Jenny could any words out, Ziva had taken them out of her mouth; "How are you?"

Jenny suddenly felt her conscience and felt terribly guilty for not sharing her secret: she'd known for weeks now that she was dying, that there was no way she could survive her own body turned against her. She was surprised no one had noticed, Gibbs especially. She'd had to change her foundation, for the tone was too dark for her suddenly paled skin, and she'd had to stop wearing heels, in case she suddenly lost control of her legs and broke her ankle. She was wearing less blusher, too; her hollowed cheeks did a good enough job of highlighting her cheekbones. Once upon a time, Jethro would notice that she'd switched face creams. A lifetime ago.

Jenny knew she couldn't lie easily to Ziva, her closest friend, but she didn't feel like she could tell anyone yet, in any case. "I'm... I'm not too good at the moment." She smiled weakly. "I'm very... stressed." Ziva raised an eyebrow at the redhead; this week had possibly been the quietest the two of them had ever encountered at NCIS, she couldn't possibly be stressed. However she went with it anyway. "How are you, Ziva?" Jenny said, and she reached out and put a hand over Ziva's with a warm smile.

She hadn't realised just how much she'd missed Ziva until that moment, and decided quickly to spend more time with her while she still had the chance too. The Director was aware of how little time she had left, and realised she was going to have to tell people soon. She could be gone at any given moment in time.

"I am incredibly bored, Jenny. It is probably a good thing that nobody's dying, but really, cold cases are cold for a reason!" She threw a hand up the air and sighed, exasperated. Jenny chuckled and nodded.

"I know. I don't miss that part of being an agent, I can tell you. But apart from work, Ziva. How have you been? I can't remember the last time we spoke, properly. You know, as friends. Not colleagues." Her smile faded a little, and she looked down out of guilt. She'd lost touch with so many people since she'd been appointed Director. Far too many, really. Ziva was the most important of all, though. Ziva and Jethro.

"Oh, Jenny, that is not your fault. We have all been busy, and..." Ziva trailed off, her mouth agape, and she frowned. "Jenny." She said, sounding a little shocked. "You... you look so much paler than usual." She cocked her head to the side, and she gave the Director's face a once-over with her eyes. "Are you ill?" She asked, her tone a little accusatory.

Jenny bit the inside of her lip, and frowned. Of course, Ziva would never see through her disguise. Her eyes not leaving the corner of her keyboard, she took a breath. "Yes, Ziva. I'm...ill." She swallowed. _She wasn't ready for this!_ Feeling her throat close, she looked at her friend, at the spot just between her eyes. "I'm fine though." Her eyes dashed a little to the right; "Just a...cold, that's all."

A part of her died inside as she said it; she was so _ goddamn weak!_ She couldn't admit to her own best friend that she was dying. She couldn't tell anyone. She knew, just like that, that she'd go through this entirely alone. She wouldn't be able to tell anyone. She was going to die alone.

_All alone. _Her heart broke.


End file.
